Son of the Tower
by ttzdrkpl
Summary: What if Tam went to the White Tower to get help for his wife? What if the Aes Sedai found out Rand could Channel, and gentled him? What if he never returned to his family and was instead raised as the first Son of the White Tower? Features competent Rand. (Now abandoned. I may do a rewrite later, but I made too many mistakes in this version.)
1. Chapter 1

_**All concepts, characters, and places recognizable from the work of another individual are the property of said individual. This story was written purely for my own enjoyment and was not meant to make profit, or to be offensive to anybody.**_

Arya Sedai sat on her horse, watching her young charge, not so young anymore, he would be sixteen years that night. The anniversary of his birth, the anniversary of his gentling. Arya had been a novice at when he was assigned to her care fresh from being gentled by the thirteen strongest Aes Sedai in the tower, wielding thirteen Sa'angreal. She hadn't expected him to see the end of that month, and now, ten years later, he still lived. In those ten years, the boy had grown into a man who had bested Hammar Gaiden to become a blademaster. It truly was a fortunate thing that the boy had been gentled, losing this much potential to the madness would have been disastrous. If not for his condition, the boy... the young man would have been bound long ago as a warder. As it was, no weave would touch him, not even healing. The power seemed to flow into him, but lay dormant, without effect... or so the other Ajahs thought. Every morning, Arya and her fellow Greens would take him to one of the lowest rooms in the tower and channel the power into him; then, they would teach him to weave. Yes, Rand Al'Thor had found something to fill the void left by Saidin, Saidar. He couldn't touch the True Source, no. He had been cut off from it. He could, however, wield the power that he absorbed. Arya felt a little badly about dragging him away from his life at the White Tower, btu it would be worth it when he was able to see his parents for the first time in ten years. After two weeks of riding, they had reached Emond's Field.

Tam Al'Thor looked into the fire of the Winespring Inn and sighed. This day marked the tenth year since Rand had been taken from him, and the sixteenth since he had found Rand on the slopes of Dragonmount. Tam let the tears begin to flow, Rand would be dead by now. No man lived long after being gentled. There was a knock on the door and Tam went to answer it. He opened the door and found himself looking into the ageless face of an Aes Sedai. Tam's frown became a snarl as his hand flew to draw his sword, but before he could even remove it from its scabbard, there was a blade at his neck, a heron marked blade, a blade wielded by his son. "Rand!" Rand looked a him, "I'm sorry father, but I cannot let you harm sister Arya." Meanwhile, 'sister Arya' had rented two rooms in the inn for herself and Rand for the week they would be staying. Just then another Aes Sedai and her warder entered. Rand turned from Tam, "Sister Moraine, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here, And you, warder Mandragon." Lan nodded slightly while Moraine gave him a soft smile, "It is good to see you as well, Rand. What brings you here?" Rand frowned, "Sister Arya seemed to think that seeing my home again would bring me some measure of happiness. It appears she was correct." Tam finally seemed to break out of his stupor, " Why don't you come with me, Rand, and we can visit your old friends. They were heartbroken when you were taken, especially Egwene," he shot another glare at the two Aes Sedai. "As much as I would enjoy visiting them, father, I am loath to leave sister Arya in an unknown environment." Arya glided to Rand, "In that case, Rand, I'll accompany you until Lucien gets back from Watch Hill." Rand nodded and looked to his father, "Lead on." As they walked, Rand turned to Tam, "Where's Mom?" Tam stiffened, "She died Rand, one week after you were taken." It was a case of the straw that broke the camel's back. Rand felt the Void he had held for ten years shatter. Sadness, grief, loss, and emptiness pounded into him. Tears filled Rand's eyes and without warning, he sprinted off, his father and surrogate sister in hot pursuit. When they caught him Rand had his blade pressed against his own ribs with two hands. Arya threw a frantic weave of air at the sword and tried to pull it away from him, but Rand's grip was too strong and she only managed to stop him from killing himself. The strain of holding a weave that touched Rand began to show when, in her desperation, she wove flows of fire to make him relinquish the sword. Rand hissed as his blade heated until it burnt his flesh and dropped the blade before collapsing on the ground in tears. The gathering crowd watched in awe as an Aes Sedai of the Green Ajah knelt next to a sobbing Rand in the middle of a dirt road and held his head against her breast, stroking his hair. Finally succumbing to the difficulty of channeling around Rand and the sadness of gentling, they both fell asleep.

Arya Sedai woke up in a soft bed to find a pair of strong arms encircling her. 'Rand.' She noticed that his hands were bandaged and immediately cringed at the memory of the day before. Unfortunately, Rand was as immune to healing as he was to the rest of the One Power. Fortunately, he always was an extremely fast healer. There was a knock on the door of the room they were in and Arya called softly, "Enter." The door swung open violently and two women strode in, one bold and one shy. The bold woman spoke loudly, "I am Nynaeve, the village wisdom. I'm here to refresh the bandages on Rand's hands." The young Green nodded and slid out of Rand's arms as Nynaeve began to unravel the old bandages. When the bandages were removed and the poultice was cleared away, Arya gasped and recalled a lecture from part of her training as a Green sister.

"Twice and twice shall he be marked, twice to live, and twice to die. Once the heron, to set his path. Twice the heron, to name him true."

There, on Rand's palms, were twin burns from where he had grasped his sword. The two herons stood out a stark black against his tan skin. Arya almost groaned aloud. As Nynaeve prepared a new poultice, Moraine entered with Lan. After one glance at Rand's hands, she _did_ groan aloud. The village wisdom glanced over to them, but finished changing Rand's bandages and left. Moraine turned to Arya, "What do we do now?" she practically hissed. "I don't know!" Arya shot back. Both Aes Sedai sat in silence, pondering the same thing. 'Would Rand be persecuted as a false Dragon?' Or worse yet, 'Did we gentle the real Dragon reborn?'

Rand woke to find Arya and Moraine conversing in hushed tones. He could catch only a few words of their conversation, including 'Dragon,' 'Tear,' 'Saidin,' 'Saidar,' 'ter'angreal,' and 'Aelfin.' Rand chose to wait for their conversation to end before he sat up, immediately saying, "I am sorry for my childish behavior this past day, sisters." The heads of the two Aes Sedai present whipped towards him quickly enough that he worried for the condition of their necks. They sat staring at him for almost three minutes before Arya spoke, "Light Rand! Never do something like that again!" Rand nodded, his eyes downcast, "I know sister, I should not have let the Void shatter, it was careless of me." Moraine entered the conversation, "It is past now, Rand, but I do have something to ask of you." "Anything, sister." "I am headed to Tear, and I would like you to accompany me. After all, a blade master could be useful." Rand looked to Arya for permission. "That will be fine, Rand. After all, I have Lucien to protect me." Rand bid her farewell and began to help Moraine prepare for the trip.


	2. Chapter 2

_**All concepts, characters, and places recognizable from the work of another individual are the property of said individual. This story was written purely for my own enjoyment and was not meant to make profit, or to be offensive to anybody.**_

A tenday later, Lan, Moraine, and Rand rode into the crowded city of Caemlyn, just in time to witness the parade of Logain's prison cart. Rand instantly noticed that only three Aes Sedai held Logain's shield, where Rand had received the full thirteen. Moraine told Rand that he was free to explore the town until the next morning. Rand simply nodded and walked off into the city. As Rand walked down the street next to a clifflike wall, he heard a call from the crowd in front of him, "That boy came here with the witch! Get him!" Rand instantly assessed the situation. Five whitecloaks in front of him, three behind, and at least two more in the crowd. Rand's decision: escape. As the whitecloaks began to push through the crowd, Rand leapt onto the cliff-wall and started to scale it. As Rand reached the top of the wall, the whitecloaks had arrived at the base and begun climbing up after him, while two stood with bows drawn. 'Flaming blood and bloody ashes.' TWANG! The arrows were fired in unison and Rand was barely able to avoid them by twisting his body in an amazing display of contortion. Unfortunately, in doing so, he fell. Rand's training kicked in, causing him to roll as he hit the ground below. Instantly, he was on his feet with his blade in hand. Seconds later, eight whitecloaks followed him over the wall. Two died before they could get up. Another two died before their swords left their scabbards. Then there were four. The whitecloaks charged as one, but as Power-wrought blade hit cold steel, they did not fight as one. Rand moved like a whirlwind, so advanced in the art of the blade that the forms were indistinguishable, flowing into a single, deadly dance. Within thirty seconds, the four whitecloaks were dead, and the two bowmen that stood on the wall again drew back their bows for a shot at Rand. Improvising, Rand scooped up one of the dead men's swords in each hand and hurled that at the bowmen. The whitecloaks fell, each beheaded by one of their companion's swords, but not before one of them lodged an arrow in Rand's left shoulder. Rand grimaced but began to climb back to the other side of the wall when he heard a voice behind him, "Light! What did you do?" Rand spun around, sword at the ready, but quickly sheathed it when he saw who the voice belonged to.

Cursing his luck, Rand knelt before the daughter-heir of Andor. There was the sound of steel being drawn and one of the men, Galad, according to Rand's reading, drew his sword, "Run, Elayne, this man is dangerous. Gawyn, get the guards." Without waiting to see if his orders were bring obeyed (they weren't), Galad stepped towards Rand and swung his sword. In a flash, Rand's was on his feet and his heron-marked blade had intercepted that of his opponent. Before either could make another move, the daughter-heir's shrill voice could be heard across the yard, "Stop it! Both of you, or burn me for a liar, I'll set Gareth on you!" Rand cursed under his breath but sheathed the sword anyway, embracing some of Moraine's residual Saidar as he did so. The heightened senses of Saidar only served to make the arrow in Rand's shoulder throb painfully, but one of the things he had learned was to always be prepared. Rand's decision proved useful only seconds later, when he heard the telltale sound of a bowstring hitting a wristguard. Rand instinctively wove air into a minor gust that swept through the courtyard. It was enough to disrupt the arrow's flight, sending it harmlessly into the ground, but not enough to be seen as more than luck. As the guard drew his bow again, Elayne leapt in front of Rand and spread her arms, confusing the poor guard. "Stop firing! This man is my guest!" To say that Rand was surprised by her statement would be akin to saying the Blight was unpleasant. He was even more surprised when the guard lowered his weapon and bowed to Elayne, "Very well, Milady, your mother wishes to speak with you immediately." Elayne held her position, "He comes with me." Galad, his sword still drawn, chose to re-enter the conversation then, "Elayne, this man is dangerous we cannot-" "Enough, Galad! This man is my guest, and has all the privileges entitled to a guest of the royal family." Without another word, the daughter-heir of the Andoran throne grabbed a still-bleeding-from-the-arrow-lodged-in-his-arm Rand by his uninjured hand and dragged him towards the palace.

As the doors to the throne room opened to admit "Lady Elayne of Andor, Lord Galad of Andor, Lord Gawyn of Andor, and Rand Al'Thor of Tar Valon" Rand released what remained of the borrowed Saidar, figuring that it would not be strange for a queen to have an Aes Sedai advisor. When they had entered and Queen Morgase had bid them to rise, Rand was glad he had released the Power. Sitting next to the queen was one Aes Sedai that Rand would never be able to forget; Elaida Sedai, the woman who had found him to be a wielder of Saidin. Apparently, Elaida remembered him as well, "Rand Al'Thor... Still alive, I see." "All thanks to you, Elaida Sedai," Rand replied gratefully. Elaida was startled, something that happened very rarely, but how could she have predicted, even with her ability to foretell, that the man she had captured to be gentled would thank her for it? Elaida was brought back to the room when Morgase turned to her, "You know this man?" Elaida blinked several times, as if getting used to the sights of the room again, before responding, "We have met once before, when I took him to be gentled ten years ago." "And eleven days." Everyone looked to Rand, "I was gentled ten years and eleven days ago," he elaborated. Galad's hand went to his sword, "But you were gentled, you're no danger any more?" Rand was about to reply in the affirmative when the stocky man, seemingly a guard captain, next to Morgase laughed, "No danger? That boy carries a heron-marked blade, the mark of a master of the blade. Of course he's a danger." Gawyn nodded, "I could see that from what he did to those whitecloaks in the yard." The captain's face hardened, "That was you, boy?" "Yes, sir." 'Word gets around quickly, here.' Gareth nodded, "He's no threat to us. Let him leave, I say." There was a collective nod from the decision makers in the room, and Rand was escorted our of the palace.

An hour later, Rand met Moraine and Lan at the city gates. The look on his face clearly said that he didn't want to talk about how his day went, so the rode from the city in silence, their next destination Aringill, where they would apparently take a boat to Tear. As they rode on, Rand changed the bandages on his hands and had to wonder at the irony of it all. A man marked by the twin herons of prophecy, headed to the home of the sword that cannot be touched, and the stone that would fall at the Dragon's coming. But Rand knew he couldn't be the Dragon reborn. After all, the Pattern wouldn't allow the Dragon reborn to be gentled, would it? Rand shivered suddenly as he remembered on of Moraine's favorite sayings, "The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills."


	3. Chapter 3

_**All concepts, characters, and places recognizable from the work of another individual are the property of said individual. This story was written purely for my own enjoyment and was not meant to make profit, or to be offensive to anybody.**_

The boat ride from Aringill to Tear had gone without incident thus far, much to the benefit of Rand's shoulder wound. Rand spent most of the trip practicing the forms with Lan using his good arm and discussing with Moraine the prophecies of the Dragon. This was of great comfort to Rand. Hearing the full prophecies, and the related prophecies by the Aiel and Sea Folk, Rand felt positive that he was correct. The herons on his palms were coincidence, nothing more. He couldn't be the Dragon reborn. After all, "chains the Shadowsworn to his will?" Rand was exceptionally skilled with the sword, and he could use Saidar somewhat effectively, but a Forsaken? That was suicide.

Rand was now on his way to the room Moraine occupied with Lan, although the warder hadn't been seen for the majority of the trip. Rand knocked lightly on the door and waited to be called in. After several minutes of waiting, Rand called, "Moraine?" No answer came, "Moraine, are you in there?" Still, there was no answer. Warily, Rand drew his sword and slid into the room. There was a woman there, and it was not Moraine. She was tall, with pale skin, but dark hair and eyes. Even in his current situation, her beauty awed Rand, at least until she threw a web of air meant to bind him. In the space between heartbeats, Rand's sword was at her throat. The woman, in shock, released the power, and Rand used the Power of her air web to weave a shield. "If you move, or touch that shield, I will kill you," Rand's voice was like ice, and the woman nodded. "Who are you?" The woman seemed to consider Rand's question for a moment before responding, "I am Lanfear." Rand almost killed her then and there. The forsaken looked Rand in the eye, and he was surprised at what he saw there. He saw fear, of the blade, no doubt, anger, at her situation, and most strangely, love. "Why are you here?" Rand's voice was shaking now, he was far from his league of things. "I came for you, Lews Therin. I came to- " "Rand." "I'm sorry?" "My name is Rand. I am not the Dragon, or the Dragon reborn. I can't be. I was gentled." Rand thought he saw a flash of pity in Lanfear's eyes, then more anger. "Don't lie to me, Kinslayer! You shielded me! You can channel!" A smirk appeared on Rand's face, "I never said I couldn't." Lanfear look confused, but Rand had no intention of elaborating. "Where are my companions?" "I put them to sleep Lews Th- Rand. I thought you may want to keep them." Rand let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and removed the sword and the shield, "Leave, Lanfear. I don't want to have a murder on my hands, even yours." There was a flash of light behind the Forsaken and a portal opened. With one last glance at Rand, she stepped through and closed it.

Rand immediately left for his own room where he felt the shock of what had happened wash over him. He had not only stood before a forsaken, but he had threatened one of them, and then proceeded to have a perfectly normal conversation whilst holding her under a paper thin shield of Saidar and at the point of his sword. It was insane! While he was raised by Aes Sedai, and thus knew the Forsaken were real, never in his wildest dreams had Rand imagined seeing one, much less talking to one. Worse yet, what was he going to tell Moraine and Lan? Would it be safer for them not to know?

In the end, Rand decided to keep silent about his encounter with Lanfear, although on the inside he was in turmoil. Why had she called him Lews Therin, and if she was correct, why had she left him here? With these thought in mind, Rand fell back to his normal routine of sparring with Lan and intellectual discussions with Moraine regarding the prophecies of the Dragon and what the individual lines could mean. The closer they got to Tear, the more anxious Rand became. He knew what the ter'angreal of the Aelfin was, and dreaded the answers even as he wished to hear them. Finally, after seven days of traveling, the boat arrived in Tear.

The trio disembarked from their chartered boat and set out for the inn they would be staying at. Once two rooms had been purchased, Moraine called Rand to meet in her room. "How do you intend to reach the ter'angreal, Rand?" Rand blinked once, twice, and a third time before responding, "How do _I_ plan on reaching it? I was under the impression that I was guarding you on this trip." Moraine did not look amused, "this is important, Rand. I know that you've figured out our reason for being here, and, being the intelligent person you are, you've planned a way into the basement." Rand conceded the point, admitting that he did have a plan, but maintained that he didn't want to get Moraine involved.

Six hours later, only minutes before changing of watches on the Stone's upper battlements, Rand could be found hopping from rooftop to rooftop towards the Stone. As Rand neared the great structure, his danger sense told him to duck. With a mental shrug, figuring that it hadn't given him poor instructions in the past, Rand dropped into a roll and came up on his feet a few feet away, just in time to see a spear pass through the air where his head had been. Rand's sword came out and deflected the next spear to his right, even as he leapt out of the way of another spear. The spear throwers seemed to notice that this wasn't working, and so they ran towards Rand across the roof. As they neared him, Rand weighed his chances. There were ten of them, and they were Aiel. Cursing his luck, Rand grasped hold of the Saidar he had asked Moraine to use on him earlier, without explanation. The Aiel rushed him as a cohesive unit, much more skilled than the whitecloaks Rand had fought in Caemlyn. When they were all within eight feet of him, Rand released some of the Saidar in a wall of air moving outwards at head level. The ten Aiel went down immediately, and Rand used some of his knowledge of the Aiel to capitalize on the opportunity. Rand called another wall of air, this time behind him, to swiftly propel him into a grouping of three Aiel trying to rise. Rand tapped each of them on the shoulder with his sword. Rand was, apparently, wrong. One of the warriors he had touched thrust out with his spear and Rand was forced to abandon all plans of attack to keep himself from being impaled. Instead, he received only a light scratch across his stomach, the pain unnoticeable within Rand's constant Void. Rand struggled to get a defensive rhythm now, with the ten Aiel attacking him in unison. Suddenly, Rand noticed a hole in the combined defense, and he took it. Rand's power-wrought sword sliced easily through the muscle in one of the warrior's wrist, causing them to drop their spear and release a surprisingly feminine cry.

Rand's morals battled within him. He had been fighting women! Seeing their opponent distracted, said women wasted no time attacking. Rand felt the metal point of a spear enter his body, tearing through his stomach lining and out through the skin of his back. Rand looked into the soft blue eyes of the woman who held the spear, barely visible behind her veil, and choked one word around the blood that filled his mouth, "S..s...or...rr...ry." Then, harnessing all of the Saidar that remained within him, Rand used one weave that even the battle Ajah had been hesitant to teach him.

Moraine was staring out the window of her room, waiting for Rand to return from Tear, when the night seemed to become day for a brief instant, with the sun centered on one of the rooftops near the Stone. Even almost a mile away, Moraine felt a large amount of Saidar coming from it. As realization dawned on her she spoke one word, "Balefire."

A/N: I am going to be out of state with no access to a computer for a week. Please forgive the long update time. Also, if you have suggestions, feel free to leave them (suggestions may include plot, pairing, or writing style).


	4. Chapter 4

First off, a big thanks to bertram-lee, for getting my rear moving with his wonderfully concise comment.

_**All concepts, characters, and places recognizable from the work of another individual are the property of said individual. This story was written purely for my own enjoyment and was not meant to make profit, or to be offensive to anybody.**_

Rand had tears streaming down his face, both from the memory of the stomach wound and what he had done to that nameless woman, as he continued to fight. Rand could tell that he stood no chance of surviving this fight much longer. His only hope was that Tarien guards would come to investigate the light, or Moraine would sense the amount he had channeled. Light, if she knew it was Balefire, she would probably come running. He could only hope, and keep fighting. For what seemed like hours, but was more probably only a few minutes, Rand continued to use the whole of his ability to avoid receiving more than the occasional scratch. Suddenly, Rand felt Saidar being woven, Much more than he had felt before, excepting Balefire. Out of the corner of his eye, Rand caught a flash of blue light, and then he felt more Saidar. Almost imperceptible flows of water hit each of the Aiel, and they all fell, while flows of earth and water sank into the roof tiles around Rand and caused them to form into a mound of pottery clay around him. Rand smiled inwardly as the Saidar began leaching into him from the tiles, but them he felt a flow of fire, and the flows were released as the tiles melted together into a more permanent prison. Rand to turn his head to see his assailant, but she (unless another male could wield Saidar) was out of his range of vision. Rand prayed to the Light that Moraine was trying to teach him some sort of lesson, but the next words he heard dashed his irrational hopes. "Are you trying to die, Lews Therin?"

"Are you trying to die, Lews Therin?" Lanfear's voice was cold as she spoke, "I suppose you never thought that there were ways to kill someone without using brute strength," she lectured, "Take those Aiel women, for example. I used very minor threads of water to saturate their blood, causing the vessels to explode and kill them." Rand was at the same time horrified and intrigued. He had never thought of using water that way. Lanfear continued her lecture, "Did you even stop to wonder if a Chosen was nearby? Ishamael is scouring the world to find you, I believe he's in Caemlyn, currently. What about Aginor, or Balthamel? Both of them are within miles of Tear, and had they not know I was here, they would be drawn to this like moths to a flame. You can't fight them, Lews Therin. Not yet." She took her first breath in the lecture, "So I ask third time: Are you trying to die, Lews Therin?"

It took Rand almost twenty seconds more to absorb Lanfear's rant, "No. But I would have," he hesitated, "Thank you, Lanfear." If the situation hadn't been so dire, Rand would have laughed at the absurdity of what was occurring; he was thanking one of the Forsaken, the Daughter of Night, because she had rescued him, because he was supposed to be the reincarnation of her long-lost love. "Don't expect it will happen again, Lews Therin. I won't always be in a position to help you." Something in Rand's head finally snapped after Lanfear's most recent statement, 'Blood and Ashes, if I'm going to converse with fallen Aes Sedai on a regular basis, I may as well get used to it.' That thought finished, Rand's demeanor changed to that of someone making casual conversation, "I know you can't always be around, but I honestly didn't expect help from you, not to say it isn't appreciated." She seemed shocked by his change in tone, 'may as well press on now,' he thought dejectedly, "It's just that ever since Caemlyn I've been a bit overwhelmed by what's happening, especially the meetings with you. I was trained by the Aes Sedai, yes, but breaking into the Stone wasn't on the syllabus." 'There,' Rand thought, 'now I just wait for her to crush me into an unrecognizable blob.' Much to Rand's shock (but not dismay) Lanfear made no move to kill him. Instead, she released his prison and stepped in front of him, "I have offered to teach you, Lews Therin. Considering your condition, wouldn't it be prudent for you to ally yourself with a powerful wielder of Saidar?" Rand considered her proposal, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel somehow _wrong_ about it. " I can't." Her face began to contort with rage, so Rand quickly amended his statement, "I'm not ready. I don't even know if I am the Dragon Reborn." That seemed to placate her, " Very well. I will be back, Lews Therin. But before I go I will do one thing for you," an archway appeared next to Rand, "Go." Rand stepped through the portal into a stone room housing a brilliant crystal sword.

------------------------------------

"I'm telling you, Egwene, Perrin should be back by now. I'm starting to worry that something may have happened to him!" Mat moved again to block the village's wisdom-in-training from continuing down the street. "Matrim Cauthon, there is absolutely no reason it should be my responsibility to watch him! He is an adult, you know!" Egwene finally succeeded in moving past Mat's living roadblock and was hurrying down the street to make up for lost time. Mat followed dejectedly in her wake, few if any of his pleas reaching her ears.

--------------------------------------------

Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn ran through the forest with his brothers and sisters. He belonged here, much more so than he ever had in the gathering place of the two-legs. He was glad his family had found him, taken him away from there, so he could run and hunt freely, as he was now. In a flurry of images from Light-Reflected-From-Dew-On-Spiders'-Webs told him what he needed to know. Their hunt was nearing an end. A final nip from Light-Reflected-From-Dew-On-Spiders'-Webs sent the deer under Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn's tree, and he leaped down to land on top of it, snapping its back with his weight. This had become a favorite tactic for his family, as Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn was able to climb trees better than them for some inexplicable reason. He and Light-Reflected-From-Dew-On-Spiders'-Webs sent images to the rest of the family letting them know that the hunt had been successful, and where the food could be found. Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn waited until Leaps-Over-Rivers-To-Impress-Mates, the alpha, had finished his meal before tearing into his share, relishing the feeling of the still-warm, bloody meat sliding down his throat.

A/N: Sorry for spelling errors of names. If you inform me I'll fix them. I loaned a friend my WoT series.


	5. Chapter 5

_**All concepts, characters, and places recognizable from the work of another individual are the property of said individual. This story was written purely for my own enjoyment and was not meant to make profit, or to be offensive to anybody.**_

_10 Years Previous_

"_Will I ever get to go home?" Arya, 17, looked down into the child's face,'at least he's speaking again,' "Maybe someday, Rand." The six-year-old wasn't about to let her off that easily, "You don't think so, do you?" Light, but he looked so helpless, so scared. 'At least he won't suffer for long.' That was a dreadful thought, and she knew it, but no man survived being gentled for long. 'If only I could find something he likes to do, something to take the place of the power.' "Rand, what do you like to do, for fun?" After a moment, Rand hadn't answered, but she wasn't about to give up what little progress she had, "Do you like plants?" There! A nod, albeit hesitant, "would you like to see the gardens?" another nod, more certain now. Arya drew Rand along beside her and walked him to the garden, determined to head to each and every place of interest in the Tower until she found something Rand liked, since one stop probably wouldn't do it. "Here they are," she waited, hoping for some sign of interest from him, "you can take one if you like." His hand tentatively reached out and grasped at a tulip, picking it._ _He held it out to her, presumably for inspection, so she decided to humor him and took it, "It's a very nice flower, Rand, but you should keep it. Here you- Did you prick your hand on the roses?" Sure enough, there was a small cut on the back of his hand, "let me see your hand, I'll heal it for you." Rand held his hand out to her, looking downcast the entire time. 'Not flowers, then. Alright, some water, spirit, air, twine around the wound and- what in creation?!' Somehow, the weave of healing had been absorbed into Rand, but not with the intended results. In fact, it seemed to have no effect at all._

Present

Rand looked around the Heart of Stone. He _had_ to look into how those portals were made. They could prove to be incredibly useful. Now all he had to do was find his way to the basement, or did he? He had told Lanfear that he needed to see if he was the Dragon Reborn, and instead of sending him to the twisted doorway, she sent him to Callandor. It was said, "The Stone of Tear will never fall, till Callandor is wielded by the Dragon's hand." If he took Callandor, wouldn't that make him the Dragon? 'I'd better not risk it. There is a plan for a reason, and besides, I can't even touch the Source.' With that though, Rand began making his way to the main passageway of the Stone. Unfortunately, no sooner did he entered the hall than he found himself staring at fifteen armed guards, arrayed with their backs to the doorway to the Heart. Suddenly, Callandor began looking a whole lot better. Rand ducked back through the doorway before he was seen and approached the Callandor. As he neared the sword, Saidar began to leech off the wards, as expected. So did Saidin. The rush of power was nothing, easily subjugated under the Void. The taint, on the other hand, Rand could never have been prepared for. Like refuse swimming through his veins; like rotting death embracing him. Rand's hand found the sword in his torment, and all hell broke loose. In the halls, the sound of fighting could be heard as Rand struggled to control the Taint. Just when Rand had managed to stand, a man entered the room. Somehow, Rand knew without a doubt that the Betrayer of Hope had arrived.

Ishamael entered the room, eyes blazing, with an army of trollocs at his heels. He looked to Rand, who immediately felt more Saidin entering him. Imagine Ishamael's surprise when instead of having his head severed, his opponent began to vomit. Rand looked to the Forsaken and decided that he needed to rid himself of Saidin, soon. A voice whispered to him from far away, telling him patterns of weaves he had never heard mention of: Fire, Earth; Earth, Air, Fire; Fire, Air. As Rand followed the unknown instructor, the room erupted in plasmic blasts. Pillars of flame reached the ceiling, lightning crackled into walls. Needles of flame shot from Rand's fingertips as he poured everything he could into the plasma, hoping to rid himself of the tainted power. When the fires died, and the flashes stopped, only Rand and a badly burned Ishamael remained. THWACK! Rand felt a club of air impact his head, sending him sprawling. The forsaken advanced on him, "Did you really think Saidin was all I had, Lews Therin? Stupid of you to release it. Try to grab Saidin again and I'll kill you before you can channel." One of Arya's lessons returned to Rand: Men couldn't sense women channel. Rand prayed that this lack of sensation was due to the powers, not genders, before channeling a stream of Saidar-woven balefire into the Betrayer of hope. Contrary to most heroic plans, Ishamael dodged the attack, but was caught off-guard enough that Rand was able to tackle him to the ground. The battle began anew, not as another clash of titans, but resembling a child's wrestling match. Lews Therin Telamon's reincarnation and the Forsaken that was once Elan Morin Tedronai rolled across the floor, attempting to throttle one another. While Rand was, without a doubt, physically superior, Ishamael had the True Power backing him, adding force to his every swing. Rand had gotten himself into a fight he couldn't win, however, and before long he was propelled into a wall by a blast of the True Power. Ishamael scooped up Callandor and approached Rand, intent upon using the Crystal sword at its most basic function. Then he died. Rand's mind, in his stupor, had wandered to his previous discussion with Lanfear. At the time, he had wondered if she had been telling the truth, about water saturating the blood and causing the 'vessels?' to rupture. In Rand's dazed state, he had wondered, and tried it. Rand struggled to his feet and used the rest of his Saidar to form a final bar of Balefire and directed it at Ishamael's body.

Rand was tired, so tired. After the Tariens had found him holding Callandor in the ruined Heart of Stone, he had found a completely new use for the Void, holding back the want to kill somebody. The High Lords had gone on for hours about what he had no inkling of. Could anyone blame him? Rand had just been in a fight with a forsaken. Thankfully, Moiraine had arrived soon after he had sent for her, and his interrogation was soon to begin. The door to the chamber Rand had commandeered burst open and Moiraine rushed in, followed by Lan. Rand sighed, there were going to be a lot of questions.


	6. Chapter 6

_T=-10 Years_

"_Rand, wake up." The six-year-old opened his eyes to see his father leaning over him. "Your mother and I have to go to the Tower today, to see if they can help her. I'll give you some money. Just stay in the inn, alright?" Tam was _not _letting the Aes Sedai Near his son, especially seeing as his son was found on the slopes of the Dragonmount. Even still, he had to take his wife to get help. Fortunately, he thought at the time, Rand nodded his head. "Ok, I'll stay here." Tam sighed gratefully, handed Rand a whole silver mark so he could get food for the day, kissed his brow, and left the room._

_Unfortunately, Rand was six years old, and like most six-year-olds had a tendency toward exploration. He had managed to remain in the inn for a full two hours, but no longer. He wandered the street, the silver mark flashing across his knuckles as he walked. A dexterous child at least, if not educated in the ways of the world. His education came too soon and too harshly. As Rand walked past an alley, an arm wrapped around his head, covering his mouth and muffling the resulting scream. The arm pulled Rand in to the alley, towards the most frightening man he's ever seen. The hulking beast of a thing, smelling of waste and looking similar, held Rand to his front, "I think you've got something of mine, boy. You know what I do to people that steal from me?" Rand had an idea of what. "Y..Y..ou c..c..c..an have it," he sobbed, trying in vain to break free. The man cackled, "But then you'll go and tell the guards about me. No. Sorry, kid." Rand felt something sharp prick his back and time seemed to slow. The prickling place seemed to be tearing open, but Rand had already retreated to the void his father had taught him. He didn't want to feel the pain of dying. But then something happened that never had in the void before. Rand felt a soft touch on his mind. The knife had penetrated almost a millimeter now, and Rand felt something else new. His veins flooded with liquid fire. His flesh crawled with pestilence. His would be murderer never screamed as he died, incinerated instantly by a pillar of flame that peaked over the tops of the buildings. _

_Rand's body smirked. "__Ninte calichniye no domashitsa, Tar Valon." __Rand's body turned to the exit of the alley. People were gathering, trying to peer into the gloom for the cause of the flame. Water and air bent the light around Rand's body, starting to blur its lines., when one face locked eyes with it from the crowd. "Aes Sedai" Rand's body growled, a look of hatred appearing on its face that seemed out of place in a six-year old. One tiny hand began to rise._

_Elaida Sedai sensed the danger not an instant too soon. Just as her hasty gust of wind finished pushing the crowd, including Elaida, to the ground, a bolt of lightning streaked through where her head had been. Instantly, all curiosity was stripped away. This was a male channeler. "__Tia mi corenne moridin isainde vadin, Aes Sedai." Elaida wasted no time in opening herself to as much Saidar as she could accept and throwing it at the boy in the form of a shield. She may as well have blocked the tide with a leaf. The boy responded with an assault of stones and boards, courtesy of the nearby buildings. Elaida dodged what she could, blocking what she couldn't. Barely. The force the boy put behind the objects was immense. Elaida sent a weave of air and fire into the sky, a bright signal for help. A shield snapped between her and Saidar, and she knew despair._

Rand jolted awake in the bed the High Lords had supplied him with. He hadn't had that dream since before he started training as a blade master. Maybe it was all the forsaken popping out of the woodwork. He'd told Moiraine about his fight with Ishamael in excruciating detail, including his unique condition. He'd survived the preliminary round of tarian politics. That was probably the cause of the nightmares. The forsaken should just send nobility after him. Even years of diplomacy training with Aes Sedai hadn't prepared him for that. And hadn't Lanfear said Ishamael was in Caemlyn? "Do you accept who you are now, Lews Therin?" Speak of the devil, literally. "Lanfear. You saved my life again." Rand, oddly enough, felt almost at ease conversing with the Forsaken. "Have you considered my offer, Lews Therin?" well, she was feeling abrupt today. Rand was slightly more cautious "I just fought Ishamael, which I wasn't nearly ready for. Then I negotiated with the Tarians. Then I went to sleep. I really did mean to consider it, but I haven't had time. I'm sorry." Lanfear pouted slightly. "Think now, then. Will you let me help you, Lews Therin?" Rand was silent for a moment. Was he really considering accepting help from the daughter of night? "I would like that, Lanfear." He was. He did. Lanfear actually seemed surprised by this. Maybe she was expecting him to hesitate more. Now that he considered it, he probably should have. She recovered quickly, "Ver-" "But," Rand interjected, remembering who he was talking to, "I will not serve the shadow, Lanfear. No matter what." It was true, even weaving through thirteen Myrddraal, since it used the power, could not turn him. Lanfear looked horrified, "Serve, Lews Therin? Together, we can rule." Rand was not entirely sure he wanted to rule, but he supposed he already was. He may as well do it with a powerful wielder of Saidar by his side. Now he just had to wonder, "I can't come out with a Forsaken yet, not just after taking the mantle of Dragon. Is there some alias you can use?" Lanfear looked pensive for a moment, then Rand felt a slight trickle of Saidar, and Lanfear changed. She still looked similar – dark hair and eyes, slender – but she wasn't _Lanfear _anymore. The unearthly beauty was gone, and Rand noticed himself feeling almost saddened by that fact. "You may call me Selene, Lews Therin." Rand nodded, "You'll have to call me Rand."

The Aggression Towards Elaida: Rand has heard for years that Aes Sedai sever all male channelers. He was just almost killed in an alley. Lews Therin is Insane. Put it together, if you haven't already. Plus, I needed it to happen.

Ace: 1,2 , and 4 are creative license. 3 was just addressed, not that you could have known, and 5 I am aware of. As much as Lanfear would know what Rand is doing, it's supposed to be impossible. Surprise can freeze the best of us.

Kamarile Sedai, Azaneti: The Black has better things to do than bother with some gentled boy who will die soon anyway.

Kamarile Sedai: The antagonists are working, just not in the forefront right now. Think Murphy's law.

Ahrimal: Ishamael was angry and afraid because of the amount of trouble he had tracking Rand, thanks mainly to Rand's unique condition. That, and I'm not a patient man. Sorry. Yes, weaves of Saidin should be clean, but that would be too easy for Rand.

The Amyrlin Seat: Moiraine had managed to track the Dragon to the two rivers (She had no idea it was Rand, and was behind by a _few_ years).

Everyone: Sorry it took so long. Thank you for your thoughts. You either answered your own questions or I will not ruin the story. Your input is appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

_**All concepts, characters, and places recognizable from the work of another individual are the property of said individual. This story was written purely for my own enjoyment and was not meant to make profit, or to be offensive to anybody.**_

Matrim Cauthon had had enough of the wine provided by The Stag and Lion to sate five men, and was seated at a table, roaring drunk. Fortunately, one did not have to be sober to be lucky. He had a beautiful (to his impaired vision) woman on his lap, and he hadn't lost a roll in seven tosses straight. Life was good, almost good enough to forget... Mat shuddered in memory.

_Two Days Previous:_

"_Perrin! Ewin!" Mat called, fruitlessly. Perrin's disappearance had been brought up in a meeting of the village council, and the women's circle, and both had agreed that finding him necesitated a search party. Ewin had overheard and run off in search of his hero, and now Mat was among several given the task of finding the two. "When I bring Perrin back I am going to rub this in Egwene's face so much she'll smell it when she's thirty. Perrin! Ewin!" Mat was tired, and who could blame him, he'd been searching for the pair into the evening now. "RRRRR" Mat's attention was draw down and to his left, to a large grey wolf. Mat whirled, his small knife flashing out of his pocket, regardless of how useless it would undoubtedly prove against the large wolf. Another growl came from the path behind him. Mat took off running. As he streamed through the trees, Mat reflected briefly that they should have caught him and torn him apart by now. They were right behind him, teeth always falling just short of his heels. Just as Mat realized, filled with dread, that they were chasing him away from the village, the wolves peeled off, and Mat ended his sprint in a clearing, a clearing with two human bodies on the floor, one large and one small. Mat's first though was that he had found them too late, and that the olves had killed his fellows. Hope bloomed anew as Perrin's head shot up facing Mat. "Perrin, Ewin! You're ok! Perrin, you look like hell. Let's go, before-" "RRRRR" Perrin _growled _at him. "Perrin, come on," Mat tood a step forward. Simultaneous growels from several wolves entering the clearing made him freeze in his tracks. Perrin rose to all-fours and slunk towards the wolves. "Per-" Another growl cut Mat off, and seemed to wake Ewin. The poor boy took one look at Perrin and the wolves and bolted into Mat's arms. The wolves stayed silent. "Perrin, just talk to me, please." Mat had descended into hysterics. Perrin let out only a soft growl in response. Mat was about to speak again, when one wolf raised its head and howled. The other wolves joined in, and so did Perrin. Even with Ewin's added weight, Mat had never run so fast in his life. _

Mat descended the inn's stairs with a terrible, roaring headache to get his breakfast. He ate with great fervor, pausing only every twelvth bite to breathe and look up. Every time he did, he saw the same young woman starting at him with wide, dark eyes. Mat's mood improved instantaneously as he hopped from his seat and approached her table, "I know, I know. I am a dream to view, aren't I?" The woman actually seemed startled that he adressed her, "Wha- No, it's just- Never mind, you wouldn't believe it," She finished bitterly. Mat sighed and sat, "There is very little I wouldn't believe at this point. Try me." The waman considered him for a moment, "I have a unique ability." As Mat recoiled she hastened to explain, "Not the One Power, I mean truly unique. I can see... images... when I look at people, that sometimes represent the future." She looked like she was waiting for Mat to run. When he didn't, she continued, "You are in great danger, I see you surronded in sparks. If you are to survive what is to come, you must go to the white tower, to Tar Valon." Mat's mouth hung open. "I'm leaving in the morning, will you come with me?" Somehow, Mat felt a pull. He nodded.

In his room deep in the Stone of Tear, Rand had a similarly surprising, but far more pleasant awakening. Moiraine came bursting into his room without preamble, Lan following closely in tow. Rand sat bolt upright in the chair he occupied, while Lanfear, still appearing as Selene, sat up on the bed. Moiraine came to an abrupt halt, forcing Lan to adjust quickly to avoid runing into her. "Rand, who is this?" Rand, to his credit, improvised quickly, "Moiraine, this is Selene. She's to be my guide through Tear. Selene, nodded, confirming his story, "My Lord Dragon had questions last night, and I'm afraid I must have fallen asleep while explaining a few things. I can be going now, if my Lord Dragon wills it." " 'Rand' is just fine, Selene." She nodded, gratefully, "Thank you my Lor- Rand." She really was a brilliant actor, Rand noticed. She seemed nothing like herself, and it made him inexplicably sad. Moiraine broke into his reverie with a burst of Saidar that stilled the air in a circle around her and Rand, effectively cutting Selene out of their conversation, "You have been disciplined, focused, and strong-willed as long as I have know you, Rand. I sincerely hope that you willl continue that policy." Rand could understand her concern. It was a rather sudden relationship to develop. They had had a plan, but it had required time, and Lanfear was only staying that one night before she integrated herself into the Tarian structure the next day. Wel, that plan was shot now. "Our relationship is purely professional, Moiraine. Really, if it was that easy to affect me I never would have survived the Tower." She nodded slowly, "Just be careful, Rand, and remember I am also here to guide you." He nodded, "I'm working on a plan right now. I'll let you know." The ward fell. "Goodbye Rand, Selene."


	8. Chapter 8

Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn moved with his brothers and sisters. Moonhunter had Dreamed with them last night. She had shown them that Shadowkiller had come, that he would need them. Leaps-Over-Rivers-To-Impress-Mates had neither trusted nor believed her, as close to the shadow as she was, but Moonhunter had shown them Shadowkiller's acceptance of her help. Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn took his queue from Leaps-Over-Rivers-To-Impress-Mates, as did the others, and now they moved toward the rising sun.

The smell hit his pack before him; Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn didn't have their senses of smell or hearing. Trollocs were near. Plans were made immediately, and scouts were sent to assess the numbers. The enemy would be brought down.

* * *

There were times when Rand would have given up his immunity to the power if it just meant he could be healed the easy way. Seated in the Tarien physician's room as the elderly man fussed over his four broken ribs, the reopened pierce wound on his shoulder, the burns across most of his body, and the bruising about his neck, he experienced another of those times. When he had been treated the previous night, immediately following his fight with Ishamael, the wounds had barely been a nuisance. Now, with a night of sleep and recovery in him, it was all he could do not to wince at every motion.

"Well, my lord, you're on track to recovery still. Just keep applying the poultices and drinking your tonic, and we should have you completely healed within about four weeks." The physician smiled at him.

Rand nodded, internally groaning at the length of time, "Thank you, Master Rawlin." He took his shirt back, "I appreciate your expertise."

"It is an honor, my lord. Light shine on you."

Rand nodded in thanks and left to go find Moiraine. He needed to inventory the vault below the Stone and decide what was to be sent back to the Tower, and he new little about angreal and ter'angreal. He could, of course, as Lanfear for help, but that would send Moiraine all sorts of warning signals. Finding the Aes Sedai was proving harder than he had hoped however, and he wondered briefly if perhaps she was angry with him for whatever she thought he had done with Lanfear last night. Well, what she thought he had done with _Selene_. If she knew it was Lanfear there would be an entirely different kind of anger. Finally, he spied Lan, the man's height and size making him easier to spot than the petite woman next to him. The two were engaged in a conversation with one of the Stone's defenders, so Rand waited until the frightened-looking young man had left before striding toward the pair.

"Moiraine, can you accompany me to inventory the Great Holding?" Rand cut to the point, hoping that if she was mad, directness would save him a lecture, "I want to start sending some of it back to the Tower as soon as possible." Rand was doing his best to take command of his new situation, one of the points Lanfear had stressed most heavily the previous night. As much as he would prefer to put Moiraine in charge and wait for instructions from the Tower, he knew he couldn't. He was the Dragon now, according to the prophecies and the Forsaken, and as such he couldn't afford to appear as a puppet of Tar Valon.

Moiraine nodded and motioned for Lan to follow, and the trio set out for the Great Holding.

Mat's headache had not abated, but he found himself feeling strangely satisfied to be heading toward Tar Valon. He and the young woman he had met, Min, had booked passage with a caravan heading toward Caemlyn. Other than the merchant owner and his three guards, they were joined by an Aes Sedai and her Warder. Mat hadn't been paying too close of attention to them, since nothing good came of getting mixed in Aes Sedai business, but he had caught that the man was Lucien.

"I've spoken with the Aes Sedai," and there was his traveling companion, drawing attention to them from the last person whose attention he wanted, "We will travel with them from Caemlyn to Tar Valon."

Mat shook his head, "I don't want anything to do with them. I don't like the idea of going to that city as is, but trav-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned in a cry that forbid any continuation of conversation as one of the caravan's guards announced, "Trollocs!"

It was all the warning they got, and then the band of monsters was upon them. Mat reacted to an instinct the origin of which he couldn't guess and pulled min to one side, out of what shortly became the path of an arrow. The Aes Sedai was laying down a line of fire slowing their charge as her Warder fought those that came too close to her. Mat lashed out at a nearby Trolloc, catching its face on his dagger long enough for the guard to finish it. For a moment he thought they would pull through. Then he saw _it_ and knew that the sayings were right: The look of the eyeless is fear. The Myrddraal engaged the Warder, Lucien, and allowed the remaining beasts to close on the Aes Sedai. Mat knew that without her, they didn't have a chance. As one raised an ax to her back, a dark shape took it from the side.

Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn used the aforementioned horn to tear into another of the Twisted Ones as Silence-Followed-By-Startling-Noise tore into the Twisted One attacking the Aes Sedai. Meanwhile Light-Reflected-From-Dew-On-Spiders'-Webs led a large portion of the pack in attacking the Neverborn while it remained occupied with the Warder. Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn felt a deep contentment completely separate from his joy at ripping out the throat of another of the Twisted Ones, almost as if this were where he was supposed to be. Soon, the Twisted Ones had been routed, and his pack retreated into to forest on the sides of the road. As Young-Bull-With-Flashing-Metal-Horn disappeared with them, he heard a final call, "Perrin!" The name meant nothing, he knew. It was a human name. Then why did he feel a great tugging in his soul, urging him back?

**AN: I'm back, and updates will be coming regularly again. I'm hoping weekly.**


	9. Chapter 9

_ Eight Years Previous_

_ Arya was both pleased and concerned regarding Rand, then eight years old. He had taken a deep, scholarly interest in the One Power and its workings, and as rare as it was for a gentled man to act passionate about anything, the young Aes Sedai wasn't certain that his research would not worsen his melancholy. After all, he could never channel it himself. The reason for his immunity remained a mystery, although most of the Tower knew of it, none could understand why. Men had been gentled before, even young boys, but none had shown this odd immunity. Now he sat next to her, journal on his knee, "Why can men not feel Saidar?" She sighed and turned her attentions from her musings. _

Present

Arya woke in the back of a wagon, having been exhausted the previous night from fending off the trollocs. Without the wolves, they would have fallen. She rose from the bed, resolving to go and talk to their traveling companions. That boy, Mat, seemed to have know the wolf-brother from last night.

Mat was deep in thought, ahead of most of the caravan, when Arya's horse trotted up next to him and the Aes Sedai dismounted, smiling slightly, "Mat, wasn't it?" she asked, carefully modulating her voice to try to put him at ease. It was a lost cause.

"I want nothing to do with your kind, Aes Sedai." His face was blank, completely closed to her. Arya knew that many people in outlying communities were distrusting of the Power, but she hadn't imagined that it would be this bad.

"Mat, whatever you've heard about the Aes Sedai to make you feel this way, it was likely exaggerated if not an outright lie." She had heard many of them, after all, and was prepared to assuage his worries. "I'm not trying to trick you."

He grinned at her, but it was a mirthless sort of grin, "Alright, how about this. I'll tell you the one that worries me, and you can tell me if its false, alright? I've heard that the Aes Sedai can't lie, after all."

Arya was mildly surprised that he knew about that, as it wasn't something they spread about, although it also wasn't exactly hidden, and nodded for him to begin. He took a breath, "A while ago, about ten hears now, a friend of mine went with his father to Tar Valon. His mother was sick, and they wanted a cure." Arya relaxed slightly, his friend had likely just told him some wild story about the trip, "He was attacked in the city, while his father was gone," An Aes Sedai likely stepped in and frightened the boy while rescuing him, easy enough to explain, "He saved himself, but to do it, he must have channeled, because the next time his father saw his, it was surrounded by Aes Sedai." Arya had met a few of these types before, those who had lost someone to the gentling. She knew there was little she could say to convince him that it was necessary but ten years ago...

"Rand al'Thor," Mat stopped short in the next part of his growing tirade, "That's your friend's name, isn't it?" When he didn't deny it, she continued, "Gentling Rand was one of the hardest things the tower has done in recent memory." Let him think she meant morally difficult. The circles sent after the boy had barely been able to subdue him, "But rather than succumb to the melancholy, Rand _thrived_." The pair was no longer moving forward, and the caravan was catching up, "Rand became a blade-master before his fourteenth birthday. His writings about Saidar have brought us closer than ever to recreating pieces of the Age of Legends." Rand had, possibly because of his entirely academic approach to the power and his unique ability, discovered a means of Unweaving accessible to any channeler, although still requiring a great deal of skill. "Rand thanks us for what was done."

"Because you taught him he should!" Mat had gone red in the face, "He may be accomplished, but with us he would have been happy!" Lucien pulled his horse up next to her, eying the boy warily, but Mat just turned on his heel and stomped off into the forest.

"I don't know why I told him those things, Lucien. I just felt that... that I needed to." She rubbed her head lightly, perhaps I should lay down a while longer.

In a newly emptied room of the great holding, Rand slumped onto the floor, thankful for the break from Lanfear's rigorous instruction. The forsaken sat sedately across from him, "You said that a voice told you how to channel Saidin, correct?" Rand nodded, and Lanfear reached into her pocket, extracting a jeweled earring, "Take this, but do not channel."

Rand did as he was told, and in an instant, he was again swimming in a river of searing refuse. He struggled not to pour the power into the weaves being screamed into his mind. Concentrating, he honed in on Lanfear's spoken instructions, "I know that you don't always hold onto your Saidar, Rand. You should be able to release Saidin as well."

At her words, the voices screams changed from weaves. "THEREISNORELEASEYOUMUST PUSHPUSHBEFOREYOU'REBURNEDBURNIN-" With a colossal effort Rand thrust the offending power away from himself and the taint abated.

Lanfear looked at him, concern etched on her face, "Are you alright, Rand?"

He nodded, "What was that thing?" He eyed the innocent, gaudy even earring that sat on the floor in front of him where it must have fallen.

"That is a well, a ter'angreal used to store the power." She picked the object up, "This one is rare in that it will store Saidin." She stood, and offered him a hand up, "This way you have some to channel should you need it." Taking in his disheveled state, and considering that his traveling was up to her standards, she gently pushed him toward the door, "That's plenty for today. I'll go a few minutes after you." Rand nodded his thanks and left, leaning on the wall as he did so. Lanfear watched him leave, considering a channeler that could weave both Saidin and Saidar simultaneously, her reason for creating the Bore in the Age of Legends. They would do great things together, she decided.


End file.
